


By the Hand

by davidwelch158



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davidwelch158/pseuds/davidwelch158
Summary: Harry confronts Voldemort in the Great Hall. The battle seems to be won... but there's an unexpected complication.
Kudos: 2





	By the Hand

_A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them, as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort’s was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco’s wand._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The two spells collided; the Elder Wand flew from Voldemort's hand into that of its master, while the Killing Curse was reflected. Harry felt a brush of wings, as though some great bird swooped over the battlefield, talons outstretched... then passed by, cheated of its prize. Voldemort staggered but didn't fall.

He spread his arms out, exultant, "I told you Potter; I have gone further than any other, I have mastered death-"

"Pompous windbag!" Molly Weasley shouted, standing over the corpse of Bellatrix, then cast the Killing Curse. This time there was no effect at all; the sickly green light washed over Voldemort then disappeared.

As if it was a signal, spells shot from every corner of the hall. Harry saw all of the Unforgivables; Cutting, Piercing and Blasting curses; exotic Transfigurations and the Darkest of Arts; one Hufflepuff even tried a Bat Bogey Hex. Belatedly he added the weight of the Elder Wand; every type of harmful magic he could remember. It was no use; Voldemort simply stood at the centre of the storm, haloed in the nimbus of spell fire and unperturbed.

The air above the Dark Lord began to waver, as if in a heat haze, through it the ceiling's image of the dawn sky was distorted along strange angles; while above the shouted curses, there was a sound like the chittering of insects.

"Stop! Stop!" Kingsley Shacklebolt's authoritative voice rang out. "Ceasefire! Too much magic in a small space can-"

But he was interrupted by an inarticulate scream of rage. Neville burst out of the crowd and swung the Sword of Gryffindor double-handed, his whole body rotating to put power in the blow. The Goblin-forged blade, gleaming in the light of the rising sun, unequalled Masterwork, as sharp as the day it was made, impregnated with Basilisk venom so even the merest scratch was fatal... bounced off Voldemort's neck. Neville, overextended, fell to the ground.

There was silence.

Voldemort dropped his arms. "Enough of this foolishness. I may yet be merciful..." He looked about and seemed to notice that, during the confusion, the remaining Death Eaters had surrendered or been disabled. A tall, saturnine man in the process of handing his wand to Arthur Weasley unwillingly caught his eye. "Nott! What is the meaning of this?"

"My Lord," Nott spluttered. "You- We- They- The country demands..." he trailed off.

The Dark Lord shook his head in disgust. "Traitors! Ingrates! No matter, I shall return with a new army."

He took a step forward and the watching crowd shuffled into his path. Voldemort stopped, glaring but while there was some nervous muttering, the wall of bodies remained solid.

Harry turned to Hermione who had moved to flank him, "I didn't miscount did I?" He ticked them off on his fingers: "Diary, Ring, Locket, Cup, Diadem, Snake and, well, me." She shrugged helplessly.

Ron at his other side suddenly burst into speech. "The prophecy! 'At the hand of the other.' Did it mean literally?"

Unfortunately he spoke too loudly. Voldemort turned and charged, bowling Harry over. They went tumbling across the floor, grappling with each other, fists swinging widely. Harry's enemy fought like Tom Riddle, as he must have in the orphanage, before he perfected his magic; he scratched and bit and clawed; raking his nails along Harry's side.

But youth, even exhausted and emaciated, eventually told. The fight ended with Voldemort pinned beneath Harry, his hands around the Dark Lord's throat but without applying pressure. The nose-less, white-skinned face sneered up at him. "Weak! Even now you fear to kill."

Harry butted his head forward, knocking Voldemort's against the hard tiles. He slumped into unconsciousness.

Kingsley appeared over Harry's shoulder, leaning forward and sighed. "This might be a problem."


End file.
